


La Douleur Exquise

by NinjaDragonWhat



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, and also flowers, probably not canon compliant, though that probably goes without saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaDragonWhat/pseuds/NinjaDragonWhat
Summary: Molly falls in love. This normally wouldn't be an issue, but this time it brings painful flowers with it.





	La Douleur Exquise

The flowers first began showing up late one night, after the Nein had already stopped at a tiny, yet cosy inn. They were all sitting around the same table, spilling drinks as much as they drank them and goading one another playfully. The day had gone well, for once, and everyone’s spirits were high, enough that even the quietest of their crew seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Molly was sitting between Jester and Caleb, one arm thrown lazily over Jester’s shoulders and a single leg propped on the table in front of Caleb. The wizard was humoring him, hiding the grin he wore behind a nearly empty tankard. Molly couldn’t keep his eyes off the man, the haze of the alcohol and the vibe of the crew making what little discretion he had fly to the wind.

Caleb’s eyes flicked over to Nott, on his other side, and he laughed quietly at something she quipped at a roaring Beau. It was such a soft, genuine laugh, like none Molly had ever heard before. Something strange but somehow familiar twisted in his chest, a warm pulse that made the tiefling want to jump up and dance.

The glow of the moment was ruined by a small, sharp pain stabbing through Molly’s lungs. He choked, falling forward and coughing somewhat violently into his hand. Jester gave him a stiff whack on the back, causing the item stuck in his throat to dislodge.

In Molly’s open palm were three petals, the soft white of a gardenia. Quickly Molly shut his hand, grinning cheerfully back up at the table. “Well! Guess I need to slow down on the booze!”

“No kidding!” Beau rumbled, a wide, drunken grin making her seem nicer than she was. “You’ve downed, like, 4! Save some for the rest!”

He laughed along with the rest of the table, the nervous anxiety in his stomach getting pushed momentarily aside. Nobody had seen. Good.

Later that night he requested a private audience with Yasha, “just for a moment, I hate to steal her from you girls,” and dragged her to a secluded corner of the bar. “Yash,” he whispered, trying to steady his voice through the mild panic, “Yasha, I coughed up petals.”

The pale woman’s face changed expressions slightly, showing how concerned she had immediately become. “You know who it is?”

“I'm almost positive, yes.”

“Shit.” Yasha let out a breath, running. Her fingers along some haphazard stitching in her shirt. “You gonna tell them?”

Molly hesitated. Was he? Normally he wouldn't worry about rejection, especially with his life on the line, but this case was special. The memory of Caleb’s gentle laugh, evidence of the comfort he’d finally come to feel around the crew, echoed through Molly’s mind. Telling Caleb of his romantic feelings would at  _ least  _ badly startle the man, and likely cause him to close off again. It might even cause the man to leave the group altogether, something that would  _ really  _ be bad.

“...no. Not yet.” When Yasha raised a curious eyebrow, Molly just shook his head. “I’m just playing it safe. Don't want to scare him off.”

Understanding flashed across Yasha’s face, and she nodded silently, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Be kind to yourself, too, Mollymauk,” and with that they both returned to their separate rooms.

* * *

As the days went on, the coughing fits became more and more, so much that it became impossible to hide it from the group. “Molly, you’ve been sounding so sick lately!” Jester cried one night, the Mighty Nein having made camp in a clearing in the woods as the sun began to set. “Are you alright? You aren’t sick, are you?”

“Of course not, darling!” Molly lied, shooting her a cheerful grin as he discreetly wiped more white petals on the ground next to him. “I just think something in the air around here doesn’t sit well with me.”

Jester huffed suspiciously, but didn’t press. Another benefit of this careful thing they all had- nobody pressed issues unless they presented a threat to the group. A practical, fitting system for such a ragtag group.

“Mollymauk.” Caleb’s quiet voice suddenly demanded all of Molly’s attention, and he turned to face the wizard, trying to look casual as a warm feeling settled in his gut. “I, ah. I’ve been meaning to ask you about your coat.”

“Ask away!” Molly flopped onto one side, posing as if for a painting, eliciting a burst of laughter from the rest of the group. Caleb’s ears flushed red, but he smiled still, shaking his head.

It was right then that Molly realized his mistake, a sharp pain in his chest making him choke and fall forward. He was unable to stop the violent coughing as it came, and almost immediately Jester was next to him, worrying and cooing over his prone form.

He finally unstuck the vile petals, hacking them up while facing away from the group. He looked up to see a wide-eyed Jester, her mouth open in an ‘o’ as she came to the realization of what was going on.

“Oh, Molly!” she cried, throwing her arms around him as she began to blubber nonsense in infernal. Beau snorted, although Yasha shot Molly a knowing look from across the campfire. Molly stood up, brushing dirt off his pants as Jester still clung to him.

“Oh, don’t worry, Jester, I’m fine. Really, you’re making this a bigger deal than it really is.” He shot her a look, trying to convey the message  _ please don’t say anything to anyone else  _ without actually saying anything. She frowned pathetically at him, but nodded.   


“Molly has allergies to… wildflowers!” she declared dramatically, throwing a hand to her forehead. “Really, a tragedy! Oh, poor Molly, unable to enjoy the natural beauty of the wilds!” She fell backwards, back into his arms, earning a snort from Molly and a couple of laughs from the group.

Molly chanced a look at Caleb as the rest focused their attention on Jester. His expression was muted, no longer the smile from before but instead an unreadable mask that made Molly’s smile falter. Their eyes met, and immediately Caleb smiled softly at him, but Molly could’ve seen the inauthenticity a mile away.

He didn’t press, though. That was the deal. Even if even the mere thought of Caleb upset made his insides curdle, he would give the man his secrecy. Even now, when he was literally falling apart for him.

* * *

Molly’s condition only got worse. He got better at hiding the evidence, taking much more frequent breaks from the group and even splurging on his own room when the opportunity arose. He couldn’t hide the effects, though, as the pain was now constant, a sharp twisting in his chest whenever he took even a shallow breath.   


His attacks became less nimble, sloppier. He got winded much easier, and it pained him to dart around in the way he was used to. He’d been able to fake it, for a while, but the pain was near unbearable now, making his vision flash white whenever he tried to leap around the battlefield.

His health had taken a turn for the worse, as well. Even with both Jester and Yasha on his case, Molly found it becoming harder and harder to eat, swallowing making yet more pain shoot through his lungs as the gardenia roots dug deeper and deeper in every day. He’d begun coughing up more and more blood, along with the petals. It was getting bad.

But Molly couldn’t risk confessing, not now. He told himself constantly that he’d wait just a little longer, that he’d get it over with soon. The truth was, though, that he couldn’t. Not to Caleb, who still closed himself off from the group every so often, who still trembled at the sight of too much fire, who still needed gentle encouraging to eat more than the bare minimum even if the group had hundreds of gold pieces between them.

“Caleb, dear,” Molly said gently, nudging the redhead with one elbow to get his attention. “You need to eat more than just a few bites of bread, you know. We’ve got a fight tomorrow.”

Caleb looked up, met Molly’s gaze briefly before quickly looking down again. “I’m not very hungry, that’s all.”

Molly huffed, tapping his fork on the wooden table. “Oh, you are. You’ve hardly eaten all day. At least try and finish the potatoes, they’re really quite good.”

There was a moment’s pause, and Caleb looked back up, pushing a few strands of hair back from his face. “Alright. I’ll eat.” Molly visibly brightened, but before he could say anything, Caleb interrupted him. “But you have to eat something, too.”

Somewhat taken aback, Molly blinked back at Caleb. He thought he’d been hiding his diminishing appetite well. But if it meant Caleb would eat better… “Alright, you got me. One bite each, ok? You start.”

They continued like this for a good chunk of the evening, Molly chattering on while forcing down food through the pain, and Caleb listening quietly, slowly but steadily chipping away at the food on his plate. It was a nice pattern, a nice tradeoff. And after the gang began to go their separate ways, heading up to their rooms, Molly got a rare ‘thank-you’ from Nott, who patted him gently on the thigh as she whispered, “He ate better tonight than he has in weeks.”

* * *

 

One morning, alone in his room, Molly woke up to so much pain he could hardly breath.

He lungs felt as if someone had taken a knife to them, pulsing with pain at every shallow, strained breath Molly took. He tried to gasp out, but was choked off by a heaving cough that sent waves of nausea and searing pain through him. He tumbled out of bed, landing on his hands and knees as blood and white gardenia petals began coming up. The fit lasted only a minute, but felt like hours, and as Molly tried to breath with the pain still searing he stared down at a puddle of his own blood, filled with countless petals and one single, full flower, sitting in the center and stained with blood.

Mollymauk passed out.

He awoke again to Yasha’s voice, concern and fear laced through it as she bent over him. He struggled to recall what had happened, the pain so intense it made thinking hard. He tried to speak, to ask her where he was, but when he opened his mouth another fit of coughs erupted, and both Yasha and a flustered Jester shushed him, trying to clean up the blood and petals and flowers as they came out.

“Oh, Molly,” Jester whimpered, her eyes watery, “Please, just tell him. You’re going to die!”

Molly was still struggling to breath, his breaths short and shallow. He didn’t want to die, he truly didn’t. But the image of Caleb- so reserved, so careful, so delicately and precariously balanced as is- spun through his pain-addled brain. He winced.

There was a gentle knocking at the door, and Fjord poked his head in. He made a face when he saw Molly, who was now somewhat covered in blood. “Oh, boy. Uh, any chance we can tell Caleb what’s going on? Beau says he’s been pacing nonstop.

“Caleb?” Molly rasped out, making the others jump. “Why is he ok?”

“He’s, well. He’s the one who found you passed out on the floor. He’s been in pretty bad shape since.” Fjord cocked his head at Molly. “Speaking of-”

Jester cut him off, tutting nervously at Molly. “Don’t talk so much!” and then, at Fjord, “Stop making him talk!”

Fjord held up his hands. “Hey, now. I just want to check on him. I just-”

“Mollymauk?”

Caleb’s eyes were wide, his expression uncharacteristically telling. He was the perfect picture of anxiety and worry, his hair clumped and hanging messily in his face. He was clutching Frumpkin close to his chest, his hands shaking. The others all went quiet.

Yasha was the first to speak again. “Molly, you need to talk to him.”

Jester’s expression shifted to shock. “Wait, you mean this whole time it’s been-”

“Let’s give them space,” Fjord interrupted, pulling her wrist as he ushered Caleb gently in. Yasha followed, closing the door behind her. Now it was just Molly and Caleb, who was still holding Frumpkin.

A silence stretched between the two as Caleb took in the scene. The blood-soaked sheets, the petals, the flowers. Molly’s faltering health. His diminishing skills on the battlefield. Finally, he broke the silence. “It’s- you have the hanahaki disease,  _ ja _ ?” he asked quietly. Molly just nodded, wanting desperately to look anywhere but the man’s stricken face. It pained him almost as much as the gardenia roots.

Caleb spoke again. “Who… who is it?” His expression said he already knew. How could he not?

A forced smile, shaky from pain, and Molly spoke in his strained voice. “Well, Caleb, you’ll be delighted to discover it’s you.”

The wizard didn’t look delighted. In fact, he looked somewhat horrified. “It’s  _ my  _ fault you’re like this?”

“Well, nobody said-” and Molly doubled over again, blood and flowers spilling out onto the sheets. Caleb rushed over, plopping Frumpkin unceremoniously down on the bed as he bent over the wheezing tiefling. He hesitated, fingers hovering above Molly’s shaking frame.

“Mollymauk?”

Molly looked up. Caleb’s expression made Molly’s heart flutter, and more pain shoot through his lungs. It was a warm, caring, worried look, so tender and gentle that Molly momentarily forgot why he was here in the first place. “...yes?”

“I… I love you too.”

It was like opening a dam. Flowers and petals came gushing out of Molly’s throat, though now they weren’t covered in blood. The pain in his lungs seemed to dissipate as the roots withered and disappeared, and as it did, Molly took deep, long breaths, as if remembering how to breath again. He was stunned for just a second as he felt the last of the disease fading, then turned to face Caleb again.

“You do?”

Caleb’s smile was patient and wonderful and it made Molly’s heart sing. “Yes, I do. You’re the one who helps me watch over myself, who actually took time to try and understand me. You were so wonderful to me, Mollymauk, even when I didn’t deserve it. Of course I love you.”

Tears began threatening to leak out of Molly’s eyes, so instead he grinned wide, taking Caleb’s hands in his own. “Guess I should’ve just said something, huh?”

“Yes, you should’ve.” Caleb leaned down and placed the softest of kisses against Molly’s cheek. “Can you stand? We should go let everyone know you’re alright now.”

"You don’t mind them knowing? About, uh, whatever this is?”

They locked eyes, and Caleb smiled once more. “It isn’t as if they don’t already know enough, anyway.”

Molly grinned and shrugged. “Fair enough. Lead the way, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first fanfic I've written in y e a r s, so apologies for any poor grammer! I've loved this ship since episode 6, and I love this trope, so I think it was inevitable I sat down and wrote something for it.  
> You can find me @ninjadragonwhat on both tumblr and twitter! As always, comments are super appreciated!!


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